AStoryForOne
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[Snippet] The Ghost King (Pokemon): Chapter 1 (Rewrite)
🕑 Added 2025-04-30 02:46:10 +0000 UTCI listened to the reviews and wanted to do a rewrite because I don't think I properly set the tone I was going for. It was too much 'woe is me, I hate my life' before and what I wanted was more of an imposter syndrome feeling, jaded MC, but with a bit of skeptic optimism. Someone who, while carrying a bit of baggage, wasn't unhappy with their new life, but also is having trouble adapting. They're happy to be alive, they're happy to be in the world of pokemon, but they're adapting at their own pace. I also removed a bit of the exposition because it didn't need to be all dumped in the first chapter like this. Overall, not much changed, but hopefully, I fixed the tone here to where I want it to be. This is a little bit of a passion project for me, I don't expect everyone to like or care about it, but I do want to get it right.
As always, thanks for the reviews, I do in fact read them! And Cyclops will be coming up in a bit, I just wanted to finish this off before popping that out.
@***@
The early hours of Viridian City were quiet. Despite being a rather decent-sized city, not much sound could be heard from the normally busy and boisterous metropolis. The sun had just started peeking over the horizon as the light reflected off the high-rises and their glass windows. In just the right way, reflecting at several angles away, the light hit the window of a certain house, sneaking through the blinds and onto the face of a young man sleeping soundly in bed.
His eyes twitched slightly and gradually opened to welcome the new morning.
His name was Edmund Harrington, and he was not from this world.
It wasn’t his first day here, but he still felt out of body, and his mind was still catching up. It took him a moment to recall why his room was different than what had been the norm for years beforehand. Random knickknacks, pictures, and decorations—they were all replaced with something that would look in place in a child’s room back home. But here, it was normal, of course.
Across from his bed was a big poster of Champion Lance.
It had been two months since he had come to the world of Pokémon.
He wondered if it were cosmic coincidence or a sick joke. Should he shout at Arceus, or did he simply fall through the proverbial cracks? The memories of him were still vivid. Despite how much he drank, he still recalled the bright lights of oncoming traffic when he thought it was a good idea to try and run across a freeway to shave off a half hour on his walk back home from the pub.
The next moment, he woke up in a hospital, but not the one he expected.
The same name, the same face, the same family. Everything was the same except the world was utterly different.
Coincidentally, his other self had ‘died’ at the same moment, and he somehow woke up here from what he could gather. They said he had a bad run-in with some Pokémon that put him in a coma for a couple of weeks. They said that he had been attacked by a few ghosts in one of the nearby abandoned buildings. From what he could glean from the hushed whispers, there were at least a dozen ghosts gathered around him when one of the locals found him unconscious on the ground.
His ‘parents’ refused to talk about it, only vaguely telling him that he was attacked by ghosts. If anything, he noticed that they were a bit more traumatized by the ordeal than he was.
He was still adapting, and it was hard.
Part of the reason was that he was now younger.
He was approaching his late twenties when he died; now, he was back in his teens, not even an adult by his old standard.
Letting himself take a moment to reorient, he then dropped to the ground and crawled under his bed, nudging a loose floorboard and retrieving a few things he had hidden under his bed.
Laid out before him was... evidence of certain illicit affairs.
Stolen. He stole a bunch of things.
There was a potion, about 80% full. He had nicked it when passing by a trainer who was tending to their Pokémon on a city bench. A quick glance over the shoulder, a slip of the hand, and it was his.
He had a fairly decent and well-used survival knife that he had pocketed from a secondhand store while the owner was in the back room. Along with Repel, which had been sitting on a shelf with it. Easy enough to lift.
There was a spool of fishing line he had swiped from a fisherman’s bag while they were busy talking to someone else. And perhaps the most expensive item was the trainer-grade flashlight he had grabbed from someone’s car trunk as they were moving stuff in and out of a building and left it unattended for minutes at a time. He was fairly sure it was waterproof and solar-chargeable.
There were some other odds and ends: a dented thermos that still worked fine, some tinder and a lighter, and a few disposable water filters. Enough that he could grab it all and vanish into the woods at a moment’s notice.
There were also the 480 PokéDollars in a rolled-up wad sitting there too. Suffice to say, the money was also acquired through dubious means.
The last item, however, was probably the most illegal one among the bunch.
There was a single Poké Ball, weathered and a bit old just from looks alone. However, it still worked, based on what he could gather. He’d found it deeper in the forest than he usually went—an area off the trails, where even the trees grew closer together, and the light had trouble filtering through.
The site looked like an old campsite, one that hadn’t been fully reclaimed by nature. He might have missed the ball entirely if it hadn’t caught a glint of sunlight at just the right angle through the brush. It was half-buried, nestled in the dirt and moss. The only reason he’d gotten to it was because of instinct, something that had saved him more than once—like when the Scyther had come out of nowhere. He hadn’t even heard it at first—just a rush of motion and the whistle of something slicing the air inches from his head before he hightailed it out of there and thankfully managed to get close enough to the city that it didn't follow.
Unregistered Poké Balls were very illegal in the Kanto region. The Indigo League cracked down on it hard some years ago, and if you’re caught with one without a good excuse, you can easily lose your right to carry Pokémon—and most likely end up in jail for a few years. Still, it was a working Poké Ball. And for Edmund, that was too valuable to ignore.
He wasn’t particularly proud of himself when all was said and done and wasn’t some hardened criminal, but he was admittedly slightly numb to the bouts of guilt that came when he was younger. He was used to doing what he needed to do to get by, and falling back on old instincts had come a little too easily when he suddenly found himself in a new world. He wasn’t waiting for something to go wrong; he fully expected it to. So he built a bug-out bag from scratch, ready to disappear when the other shoe eventually dropped.
However, all of that paled in comparison to his notebook.
If anyone found out about this, he couldn’t imagine the consequences. Still, he kept it with that thought in mind because it helped him acclimate better. He opened it up, rereading what he had written before.
‘Crystal Onix—Orange Islands, ‘Sun-something island,’ find a map of Orange Island that lists all the smaller islands. Orange Islands subsidiary of the Indigo League? Need more informatio’n.
‘Grandfather Cavern—Neon Town doesn’t exist, anime filler only? Near Cinnabar Island, southwest of the Safar’i.
He flipped to another page.
‘No Information on Mega Evolution. Undiscovered or government crackdown?
‘Possible Mega Stone Locations’
‘Dragonite Island inside the storm?’
‘Digglet Cavern?’
‘Rumors of a Magikarp gathering near Cinnabar Island, no previous reference.’
Another flipped page.
‘Moonstones.’
‘No real information regarding moonstones yet. Is it possible to sell guaranteed evolutions for Pokémon that require them?
‘No information regarding Fairy-Types at all.’
‘Dynamax—No information’
‘Z-Moves—No information, Alola Region semi-isolated.’
Another page flipped, he looked at the threats he recalled off the top of his head and had written down in case he forgot.
Team Galaxy—no information, no sightings. Regional information is scarce.
Team Aqua/Magma— No information, no sightings. Information was most likely filtered.
Legendary Sightings—Articuno sighted in the south, between Kanto and presumably where the Orange Islands are. Freak snowstorm—cold fronts sweeping inward, verified information about unnatural weather.
That last one, Team Rocket.
Eight thefts of Pokémon by trainers were reported on the general Kanto forums. There are three actual recorded sightings of unidentified people wearing the logo. Looked up older records, warnings of trainers being attacked going back over a year. No records are listed in Veridian City, home of Gym Leader Giovanni—presumably the leader of Team Rocket.
The last page he turned to.
‘Important characters:’
‘No trainer by the name of Ash Ketchum. No Trainer by the name of ‘Red,’ ‘Blue,’ or ‘Green.’
‘Brock is the leader of the Rock Gym in Pewter, like canon. Some mentions of his parents abandoning them.’
‘Misty is still the younger sister of the Cerulean Gym’s leaders.’
· ‘Noted Difference: Cerulean Gym is known as the weakest, but not to the degree that it’s shown in the anime. Misty’s sisters have a slightly stronger roster befitting a gym, if barel’y.
‘Lance is the regional champion.’
· There is some minor backlash since he stepped into the position. Not nearly the degree in some fanfics I’ve read in the past, but Professor Oak gave him an endorsement, and there’s been no obvious ‘evil plans’ in the works so far. Champion Lance has been earning support by actually helping the Kanto Region, and the vocal opposition has become a minority.’
· Lance was seen holding a Seadra, which caused some heated discussions online. Apparently, it’s not publicly known how a Seadra evolves into a Kingdra—possible avenue to make some money.’
‘Professor Oak is a credited and highly appraised Pokémon scientist. No post-war high-tension scenario outside of some politics. Couldn’t find a single bad word said about him online.’
Edmund took a deep breath, closing his journal.
He wouldn’t call himself an expert in Pokémon, but he had played almost all the games and knew enough about it to feel somewhat competent to talk about it in the past. One of the first things he did when he got out of the hospital was research to see if it was some weird iteration of the world he ended up in.
In his boredom in his life, he had read a bunch of things and whatnot, so he was relieved to see that the world wasn’t anything crazy.
Edmund carefully put everything away, leaving only the knife and a map of the region on the bed. The map was worn, edges slightly curled, with dozens of marks in varying colors. Red circles, black Xs, and blue underlines—all scribbled over forests, paths, and pockets of wilderness surrounding Viridian. Some were clustered closely, others scattered, all of them representing places he’d visited or meant to return to. It was clear from the density of marks that the map had been in use for days, maybe longer.
He traced a path with his finger, leading to a spot he hadn’t yet circled but had his attention today. He hadn’t found it yet, but he knew he was getting close.
Edmund folded the map and tucked it into his pocket, then hid the knife at his waistband. Old habits die hard. He wasn’t proud of the things he’d stolen—far from it—but after years of doing whatever he needed to scrape by, the muscle memory hadn’t left. And deep down, he didn’t expect to stay comfortable in this world forever. No matter how calm things seemed now, it still felt like a temporary illusion.
He was an expert when it came to knowing how quickly good things could flip upside down, and he wouldn't be unprepared in this life.
So he kept the bag ready. Just in case.
However, that isn't to say he woke up here feeling cheated or depressed. Who would be upset that they got another chance after presumedly dying? Who would be upset that they had another chance to...be something better?
Granted, he didn't know what 'better' meant to him right now. He didn't have that luxury before when his main concerns were keeping a roof over his head, food on his table, and not getting shot by walking down the wrong street at the wrong time.
Edmund looked out the window, stopping what he was doing to see the Pidgey fly across the sky.
It never got old.
To the him of right now, even he couldn't help but feel a bit of the childish excitement when he saw a random Pokémon simply pass by.
@***@
Edmund walked downstairs to the kitchen; he was the last one to arrive for breakfast.
His house was…nice, big, and spacious, clearly costing more than what a normal family could afford.
Edmund came from money; at least, he was well-off compared to the average person. He wouldn’t call his family wealthy, but they generally didn’t have to worry about finances and could get most things they wanted.
Though, in fact, it was familiar to him as well.
However, there were things that also were jarring to look at.
“Morning, Eddie.” His mother called out to him.
“Morning.” Edmund forced a smile as he took his seat at the table.
He glanced around to see if everyone was here today.
At the head of the table sat his father—Alistair Harrington.
He wore a nice suit, getting ready to head to work after breakfast. He worked at a local company, the name of which escaped Edmund, but he was a higher-up. Not the CEO or anything like that, but high enough that he was important.
His mother put a plate of food in front of him before taking her seat at the side of his father.
Elizabeth Harrington.
She was from a similarly well-off family on her maternal side. His mother was a stay-at-home mom, but she inherited enough from her own parents that she didn’t have to work a day in her life. Though she did have a side job of designing clothing and selling the designs to companies or individuals that wanted them.
It was still jarring to not see her with a glass of wine in her hand every second of the day.
Edmund also unconsciously flinched sometimes when his father reached for something close to him.
Years of certain things were just ingrained into his mind despite them not being true here.
On the opposite side of the table sat his eldest brother—Bartholomew Harrington. He wore a suit not dissimilar to their father's and had slicked-back hair with stylish glasses adorning his face as he read the local paper.
Bartholomew—Barty, as they nicknamed him around the house—worked under their father, albeit several positions below him, at the same company.
Edmund still remembered when his own Barty had left, joining the military and never seeing each other again.
He didn’t blame his brother back then; he would have done the same if he could at the time with how messed up their family had become.
Lastly, there was his other brother, the second oldest.
Benjamin Harrington.
He was a stark contrast to both his parents and even his eldest brother. Benjamin looked like a stereotypical beach boy. He had long hair, tanned skin, and mostly wore flip-flops. Yet, neither his parents nor Bartholomew said anything about his appearance.
In fact, they were proud of him; he had his own company, and he had several boats over in Vermillion City that did all sorts of things depending on who purchased their services. Chartered boat rides were common to various places. Fishing expeditions, or just people wanting to rent them out for the day to try and catch some aquatic Pokémon.
Edmund remembered that the most common use was people wanting rides over to Cinnabar Island. He remembered his brother mentioning that there were always new Trainers that didn’t have a flying or swimming Pokemon and needed a ride to challenge the Gym over on the island.
Benjamin himself had a Pidgeot to fly over to Vermillion City every morning despite living here in Viridian City.
Still, it was hard for Edmund to divorce the memories of his brother Benjamin from the one who sat across from him.
A wannabe musician, only for everyone to find out he overdosed a few years after he had disappeared from home.
That left him, Edmund Harrington, the last member of their dysfunctional family that had been to juvie twice before he became an adult from stealing.
The thing was, Edmund remembered a time before everything went to shit that was similar to this. He used to think he was imagining things, but coming back here, the memories became more vibrant.
A time when he was maybe five, maybe younger; it was hard to pinpoint. A time when his family hadn’t fallen to shit, when their dad still had a good-paying job, their mom was still a good mom, and they had what they needed.
But the family quickly went down the gutter when their father got fired from his job for embezzlement. They had to clear out their savings to pay off the debts they owed, and he only narrowly escaped going to prison.
He became…heavy-handed with his annoyance, and an alcoholic was just par for the course.
His mother went down a similar route, though she just drowned herself in cheap wine and completely checked out from parenthood.
Both his brothers left before he had even turned twelve.
By the time he was eighteen, he had no one left.
His mother drank herself to death. His father finally got tired of everything. His oldest brother disappeared into the world, and his second oldest was the first one in the ground from overdosing.
Yet, he sat here, in front of a…loving family that wore all the faces of people he had started to forget about.
The first few days he was here, he thought he was in his own personal hell, being shown what could have been compared to his own shitty life.
A couple of months...he still had trouble adapting.
He had the same thoughts every morning.
And it wasn’t as if he hated his ‘new life.’ He didn’t despise the people who wore the faces of his family; he didn’t even really…project his own issues of his ‘previous family’ onto this one. It was just hard still.
It was better, happier.
But he still couldn’t shake the feeling that something was inevitably going to happen, something was going to go wrong, and it was all going to go to shit at the drop of a pin.
“Hey, Dad, did you see the news?” Barty asked, holding the newspaper up.
“Mmm, Devon Corp just released the news that their fossil extraction technology reached the point where they can begin rolling out their products for commercial use.” He summarized the article.
“How’s the company going to react?” Barty asked.
“We’ve known for a few months now, and we’ve already made preparations. It’s no secret, Silph Co. had already started buying up a lot of land that we suspect may hold the most fossils in the region.”
Edmund listened intently to their conversation, picking up the important tidbits about the timeline he was living in. He knew some things about what they were talking about due to his own knowledge before he died.
“Do we have to talk about work at the table, guys?” Benjamin grumbled. “If I wanted to hear this kind of thing, I’d be wearing a suit and sitting in on board meetings.”
Edmund frowned as he watched his father smile. It was something that he believed would never cease to make him wary.
“How’s the boating, son?”
Benjamin rolled his eyes. “It’s going good, Dad. We just bought another 50-footer since work had picked up.”
Their father nodded. “It’s a good investment; even if everything went under, you could still recoup some cost from selling the ship.”
“You’re seeing more work these days, then? Have you considered hiring more employees and expanding the company more than just getting another boat?” Barty joined in.
“Nah, we don’t think it’s normal. A bunch of the captains with more experience than me are saying it’s just because of the cold winds that popped up recently that have been causing hell on the waves and making it harder for trainers to fly or swim around the islands.”
“It’s important to listen to them; they know what they’re talking about.”
Edmund nearly did a double take because something like that would have never left his father’s mouth before.
“Come on, boys, no business talk at breakfast; you know the rules.” His mother casually said with an eye roll as she nudged her husband.
“Yes, dear.” Their father grunted.
“Speaking of trainers—“ Benjamin started again. “We’ve got a new one coming up soon, don’t we?” He looked at Edmund, and everyone else turned to him as well. “What do you think, little brother?”
Edmund clammed up a little; he didn’t know what to say. “I’m excited.”
It made the atmosphere awkward. Just like how Edmund had woken up in a strange world, his ‘family’ didn’t miss how he was acting these past months.
“Come now, Eddie, give us more than that.” His mother had a gentle smile as she tried to coax more out of him. “What Pokémon do you want? Maybe your father and I can pull some strings, hmm?”
Ed felt a bout of nostalgia as she called him ‘Eddie’ almost every time it happened. “I’ve been looking forward to it for a while.” He put on a nice smile for them. “But I don’t know what Pokémon I want yet; there are a lot that I like.”
“Barty here asked for an Eevee.” The patriarch of the family pointed out.
“It’s a respectable Pokémon.” Barty nodded.
Benjamin rolled his eyes. “Let him do things his way. You know how everyone gets all pissy when they find out you ‘bought’ your first Pokémon?”
Barty scoffed. “Who cares what those lowlifes think? A Pokémon represents not just the person but their associates as well. You won’t get far in a respectable business without a respectable Pokémon.”
Their father actually nodded along with what Barty said.
That was one of his modus operandi.
They weren’t the most wealthy, they weren’t the most powerful or influential, but their father also put forth that we had to look proper at all times.
A respectable Pokémon was just another one of those things. Appearances were important to him, and he pressed that on his kids.
“My first Pokémon was a Pidgey.” Benjamin shot back, crossing his arms. “Do you have something against him?”
“I didn’t say that.” Barty scrunched his nose. “A Pidgey has a third-level evolution; it’s a proven strong Pokémon line, and it’s shown up plenty of times in championship matches or league matches.”
Benjamin scoffed. “That’s why you couldn’t make it as a Trainer, Barty.”
“I was top 16 in the Indigo League.”
“And you got rolled by a kid with a Squirtle against your Flareon.”
“He had a type advantage!”
“That’s a bullshit excuse, and you know it. Flareon knows plenty of non-fire attacks that could have easily taken out even the best Squirtle!”
“Boys.” Their mother said sternly, making them both back off.
“Benjamin, don’t insult Barty’s accomplishments. Getting into the top 16 is no small matter; it’s opened up plenty of doors to him, and you know he never intended to be a Trainer for more than one season. And Barty, don’t insult other people’s Pokémon; you know what you were doing.” Their father said rather expressionlessly, as if it were a normal instance of bickering that he dealt with every day.
Edmund knew what went unsaid. He meant, don’t publicly insult another person’s Pokémon; it was considered crass, even if he agreed that he didn’t particularly agree with Benjamin’s choice of a Pidgey as his first Pokémon and ace.
Barty frowned, then sighed. “I didn’t mean anything by it. Your Pidgeot is probably the best Pidgeot I’ve ever seen. I’ve never heard of one able to fly as long as yours does.”
“Yeah….sorry for dissing your place. I didn’t even get into the top 32. You did good, Barty.” Benjamin replied.
Edmund frowned too.
It was too different.
He doesn’t know if he ever recalled a memory of his brothers apologizing to each other. If anything, bickering usually escalated into actually fighting.
“What Pokemon do you think you would want, Eddie?” His mother started again.
“If you want a water type, I know a good few spots to try and find some of the rarer Pokemon.” Benjamin leaned in. “If you want a Gyarados, just blink twice.”
“Benjamin Harrington!” His mother raised her voice. “Don’t you dare put thoughts into your brother’s head about having one of those things.”
Edmund couldn’t help but smile a little. “A Gyarados does sound pretty neat.”
Their mom looked like she was about to blow steam out of her ears.
It was no secret that Gyarados were one of the most dangerous Pokémon and had a very bad, albeit earned, reputation.
Benjamin just laughed, as did his other brother and father, even if they tried to hide it under their mother’s glare.
“I guess I wouldn’t mind a Charmander.” Edmund eventually admitted, and this came more from the heart. “I always liked Charizard.”
The others laughed again because it was a fairly normal thing for kids his age to say. If you asked someone in Kanto what their favorite Pokémon was, probably 7 out of 10 would say Charizard.
“Kanto’s Famous Trio all have good points.” His father nodded, even if it was semi-joking on Edmund’s part.
Every region had a famous starting trio, as it were.
“And you don’t need to get one of those three either.” Bartholomew added in. “And I don’t want to push you to get something you don’t want either, even if I do think Pidgey is a great starter. But it’s always a good idea to consider the future too. Starting with a flying Pokémon gets you a leg up compared to trainers who get one much later.”
“Not every Trainer gets a flying Pokémon that can carry them, sweetheart.” His mother chimed in.
“No, but it’s the smart thing.” Benjamin grunted. “Being able to quickly fly away saved me more times than I can count.”
“You’d be out of business if everyone followed your advice.” Their father chuckled, earning a slight smile from Benjamin too.
“Eevee has many good evolution paths.” Barty added, not elaborating, but it was a genuine effort to contribute for him.
“I know a few reputable breeders too. If you want a Meowth or a Persian, I could talk to some people,” his mother added.
“I don’t think I’m a cat person, Mom.” Edmund twitched a little.
His eyes trailed down to his mother’s Meowth that was ‘sleeping’ in its cat bed in the corner of the room.
Ever so slightly, it had one eye open, staring back at Edmund.
In fact, it had been staring at him this entire time, like it always does.
It wasn’t just normal cat behavior; it was as if the Meowth was waiting for him to do something, waiting for him to make a move so it could pounce and attack.
He didn’t know why, but bar one case—the Chansey that tended to him while he was in the hospital—every other Pokémon he ran into had seemed to visibly show dislike towards him. Though it usually wasn’t overtly hostile like this Meowth, when first impressions are so important to Pokémon, it made things…difficult.
No one else had noticed but him at this point.
“I don’t know,” Edmund finally said softly. “Maybe just seeing what Pokémon wants me as their trainer is the best bet? I know some of what I eventually want, but a starter is supposed to be a big decision, right?”
“That’s a good thought.” Benjamin ruffled his head. “A lot of trainers get so caught up in the strongest Pokémon they could get that they don’t realize that a Pokémon they get along with is usually the best bet.”
“Well, compatibility is important.” Barty acknowledged. “Even the best employees will suffer if they don’t have good working environments.”
Benjamin rolled his eyes. “Barty released one of his early captures. A Hitmonchan because they didn’t mesh well together. Not that there’s anything wrong with that.” He sincerely added to the end. “Synergy and understanding with your Pokémon is the most important thing for a Trainer.”
Both his mother and father shared a look, then smiled.
“We wanted to hold off until tomorrow to tell you, but since we’re already at this point…” His father trailed off.
“What your father means to say is that we pulled some strings, and we got you a slot in Professor Oak’s evaluation.”
“Really?” Barty’s eyes widened.
“That’s amazing!” Benjamin joined in.
“What’s…this evaluation?” Edmund found himself asking.
His father hummed. “Well, most new trainers don’t hear about it. But Professor Oak generally evaluates some new trainers and sees if they’re fit to be sponsored by him. This includes a Pokedex, one of the three famous starters of your choice, and some additional resources in the form of stabling and Pokémon management.”
“It’s a highly valued position.” Barty added in. “Every sponsor of Professor Oak’s ends up being a well-known Trainer or person of importance in whatever field they get into. The Squirtle I lost “to”—he shot Benjamin a look—came “ from a sponsor of Professor Oak.”
Edmund, of course, knew a bit more now that it was explained. He remembered people like Ash Ketchum or even Professor Oak’s grandson, who had been sponsored by him.
He didn’t know that the professor did it annually either.
They were all excited for him, but Edmund could only smile wryly.
His father reached across the table and patted his shoulder. “Even if you don’t like the starting three, Professor Oak has plenty of Pokémon that you will pretty much have your pick of the lot.”
Edmund found it hard to celebrate, not because the idea wasn’t exciting, but because they all assumed he was a sure win for this ‘evaluation.’
He took another look at Meowth and sighed in his heart.
He just hoped that maybe Professor Oak could help with his ‘problem.’ Maybe there would be a Pokémon there that wasn’t disgusted by him.
“Can I be excused?” Edmund got up. “I want to go on my morning run.”
“Go ahead, dear.” His mother gave him permission.
“Must be too excited to sit still.” His father mused aloud.
He had been doing ‘morning runs’ for weeks now, so they were nothing new to his family. Even supported, they all knew the importance of a Trainer having good stamina and being quick on their feet.
Edmund only relaxed once he got out of the house, as if a weight had been lifted from his shoulders.
It was nice.
It was nice.
Especially compared to before.
But…it was still hard to manage; he was still getting used to it. He felt like an imposter despite everyone wearing the right faces and having the right names.
He quickly put some distance between him and his ‘family’ before.
However, he put such thoughts to the side for now.
He didn’t escape just to get away from the awkwardness; he had a job to do. A self-imposed job, but a job all the same.
He found the bush behind the local PokéCenter, pushing the thick leaves out of the way to find the bag he left here yesterday.
Inside was a pair of binoculars and a lockpicking set.
They cost him a bit of money to buy from a shady dealer, but they were more than worth the price.
He found his same spot that he had been at for days now, stepping up onto a rock and peeking over a fence. Obscured by several trees and bushes, he was nearly invisible to anyone even looking in his direction.
And he had a perfect view of his target; the PokéMart was currently ‘restocking.’
Normally, this would be pointless to watch, but last week, the Pokemart suddenly had an influx of wild berries.
There was a stark difference between wild berries and lab-grown or even farm-grown berries. The former of which were substantially more expensive and much better than the alternatives.
Likewise, there was no real ‘supply’ due to the nature of them being wild and not properly controlled.
That is to say, there were rumors going around that the PokeMart here in Viridian City found a large amount of wild berries in the nearby forest that couldn’t be picked all in one go.
And the best part, for Edmund, was that Wild Berries didn’t belong to anyone. By definition, if they were wild, they had no ownership. At least until someone had ‘obtained them,’ then, of course, they became properly
That is to say, he wasn’t planning on robbing the Poke Mart; that would be stupid.
If he could track the spot down, he could make a decent amount of money, enough to fund him for a good few months of his Pokémon journey, maybe longer. Or enough that he could just…disappear if needed, for whatever reason.
It was mostly for the latter.
Maybe it was still old habits, but it was that tinge of anxiety that manifested in him when he woke up here. But he needed his own money, his own sustainability. His ‘family’ was rather well-off, but it wasn’t his.
He had been trying to find it for several days now, the map in his pocket where he had checked before and found nothing.
He watched the back door of the PokéMart, and he saw someone sneak out wearing a hat and sunglasses.
Edmund quickly put his stuff away.
It was time to get to work.
Comments
TOS SOT
I still cringed reading three-level evolution instead of three-stage evolution
Danielle
Not really my cup of tea if I’m being honest, but thanks for writing
Valkyen
I do like this better, way less 'I hate my life' like you said, the problem for me was the tone was not one I was going to enjoy and much less for Pokemon story, I always prefer the happy Pokemon world than the darker one, good job and keep the good work
